Immortally Alone
by Captain and Fearless Leader
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back…. Buffy doesn’t have it any better. One of Willow’s spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of im
1. Routine

Disclaimer: Captain and Fearless are here! Alas, we are only two poor girls with too much time on our hands.. We own nothing, except for maybe our body pillows, but that is it... We don't even own Spike. 'Tis quite a tragedy... and I've never been to San Francisco, so if I got it wrong it isn't my fault..  
  
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.  
  
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else.  
  
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.  
  
Annie (mjaw): I finally got around to typing it! I hope you enjoy this story. it'd make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks for your support and I'd read your stories anytime! 3  
  
***~~***  
  
Chapter 1 ~ Routine ~  
  
Isn't it strange how you can just live your life, day to day, and not realize how far things have come? How people change and evolve to fit into circumstances. You drudge along with the rest of the human race just to keep your head above water and your ass from being bankrupt. So you can afford the things that you need to exist, things that you need so that you can function. Then, one day, you look up at the calendar and you see more than just the month and the number of that particular day. You notice the year that accompanies the month and day.  
  
When you're immortal the years are nothing to you. If a decade was uneventful it just slipped away into the night like an old woman taking her last breath in her sleep. Peaceful. There might be fond memories of certain days in that decade. These days are strung out through that decade and are cherished but forgotten when they aren't needed. Time meant nothing... it was just a number in a midst of billions of meaningless numbers that somehow keep the earth spinning.  
  
Spike shifted slightly in the bed, his movements slow so his current bed partner wouldn't rouse. He quietly settled into a comfortable position. He laid there and remembered four particular years that changed him the most. The years that opened his eyes and made him, once again, relate to humans. to being a human. Ever since then he hasn't been the same. For once, time had slowed down and meant something to him.  
  
But after he left Sunnydale, and the people that changed him, time sped up again. Normal days meant nothing, and the nights were spent drinking until he was hammered. Fucking the girls that would take him. Those four years were just smoke on the horizon, obviously there but easy to miss.  
  
He felt like he was nothing.. Useless... Just a cold, animated shell that existed for someone else. The only time he felt something was when he was being fucked. It was his way of reliving that last year of that four year duration that had changed him so drastically. Her warm body... the blood pumping in her veins... the heat. The unbelievable heat that he felt when he was with her... inside of her. It was the heat that he craved. He feared that he would always crave it.  
  
He shifted again, not caring if he woke his latest bed mate this time. Besides, he was more than willing for another go if she woke up. When he realized that she wasn't going to wake he slipped out of the bed. His legs carried him across the room to where his clothes were strewn across the tan carpeted floor. He slid on his tight black jeans over his narrow hips, his fingers popped the buttons through the holes. He pulled the black shirt over his head and then sat down to put on his boots. He quickly made sure that he had his lighter and then left the small apartment room. He stalked down alleyways like a panther in the night. Silence deafening.  
  
His orgasmic calm was shattered by thoughts of his past. It never seemed to end. His fists clenched at his sides, his thoughts straying to the woman that stole his heart and broke it. His body screamed for blood but each possible meal seemed to have her eyes. He wasn't good for the sake of being good. He was good for her. For Buffy.  
  
He sighed bitterly as he continued his trek through the narrow alleyways. A dull roar of cars in the distance reminded him of where he was.. deep in the heart of San Francisco. Back in California.... Back in the same state as Sunnydale. He spent many years in New York, being as far away from her as possible without actually leaving the country. But like a moth to flame he was back in California... he couldn't ever seem to let himself stay away for too long.  
  
Reaching his destination he, he pushed all of his Buffy thoughts aside and entered his small hotel room. He didn't bother to turn on a light as he stalked through the door and went for the bathroom, his clothing shed by the time he turned on the shower.  
  
He was dirty.. Dirty from thoughts of Buffy. Dirty from his latest fucktoy's sweat. The scalding water cut into the cold of his skin, making him feel human. The spray of the shower cascaded down his body, his hands pressed against the side of the shower. He leaned his head against the mint green tile as he felt all the energy escape from his body.  
  
This was how it was nearly everyday.... The only difference was the girl's names.... He was in an endless, hopeless, heartbreaking cycle that he couldn't find escape from. He was lost.  
  
TBC.  
  
*************~~~~***********  
  
A/N: Ok, I'd like to also give you guys a poem I just wrote. I thought of it while watching the episode 'End of Days' today. I hope that you like it..  
  
~ We'll go be heroes  
  
and push back what we said  
  
tonight is ours  
  
fire across the sky  
  
passion in our hearts  
  
I just wanna hold you in my arms  
  
say you won't forget me  
  
remember me when I die  
  
I'll love you forever  
  
even if forever ends this night  
  
we'll be heroes for all time  
  
we'll go be heroes tonight ~ 


	2. Shine Gray

Disclaimer: I could say that BtVS is mine and it's characters are all mine as well... but that would be lying. and I never lie. *snickers*  
  
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.  
  
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'll update as often as possible, school's got me pretty busy. So don't get too mad if it takes a while for updates.  
  
Another note. this story is about 40 to 50 years in the future, the time doesn't really have to be exact. Just know that all of the Scoobies are older now. Also, Buffy doesn't know that her immortality was caused by Willow. Hopefully that'll prevent some confusion.  
  
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.  
  
Chapter 2 ~ Shine Gray ~  
  
The flat line on the heart monitor was what finally triggered her tears. They crested in her eyes and released, tricking down her cheeks to where they dropped off her chin. She took her eyes off Xander's peaceful face when she heard the door click shut. Her eyes rested on the face of the doctor. He nodded solemnly and left the hospital room, not wanting to impose. Knowing that they'd need time to grieve for their friend. For Xander.  
  
Buffy looked into Willow's eyes and noticed that she had aged at least five years in the past ten minutes. Her gray hair framed her face as she looked down again. Down at her best friend. Former best friend. A gasp had caught in Willow's throat before her legs gave out and she sunk to the floor. The pain of her loss washed the salt from the wrinkled skin of her face. Her hands flew up to cover her eyes, then they reached up to grasp her hair. Dawn leaned down next to her, putting her arms around Willow's shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.  
  
His death had been quiet... His departure had be so soft and so peaceful. It'd difficult for Buffy to truly grieve. She never had much of a chance to experience peaceful goodbyes. Most of her previous goodbyes had been apocalyptic, painful, full of rage and heartbreaking sadness. Buffy didn't know how to deal with this death. Her own, long ago, had been about sacrifice, love her friends, devotion and love to her sister. She didn't go quietly. When Giles died it had been from cancer, his life slowly drained from his body. Slowly.. painfully. Pain she could deal with. It was the peaceful stuff that tore her apart.  
  
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Passed through her in shadows and murky images that her mind barely registered. Sadness was all that had got through to her. Numbing sadness that made her bones ache and her mind go on auto-pilot. Everyone lived in a dream world where the only form of communication was depressed looks and light, barely there, physical contact.  
  
That's the hardest thing about getting old.. Not necessarily dying, but being the friend that survives the other's departure from this world. The only thing for certain is knowing that someone you care about is going to be the next one, or you will be the next one on the list of the soon to be deceased. As hard as death is, there is warmth in it, maybe not for the person left behind, but there is warmth for the one who had passed.  
  
Buffy missed the warmth.. She craved it more than anything she had ever craved in her entire life. That final peace that everyone will one day encounter. It tortured her to know that she would never again feel it. Maybe that's her punishment for having been brought back once before. Her punishment for having departed from Heaven, even though it hadn't been her choice to come back. Maybe it's her punishment for having felt it's warmth. She hated knowing she had left Heaven and she wouldn't ever go back.  
  
She looked into the mirror, scowled at her reflection. Her friends all had to grow old and die, but she looked the same she had when she was 21. Her blond hair shined under the overhead light, different shades of blond were streaked throughout her mane. She wished that it shined gray. She would never grow old in body, only in spirit and in mind. Wisdom trapped in youth. It frustrated her more than anything ever had in her life.  
  
She would never admit this to anyone, but she had tried to kill herself. She let a vampire get the upper hand for too long.. jumped off the roof of her house.. Even tried to drown.. Not one of those worked. It almost felt like that Bill Murray movie where he lived the same day over and over again. The only exception was that she never woke up unscathed the next morning. Scars and bruises marred her skin, though she always managed to hide the evidence of despair under her clothing.  
  
Eventually she stopped hurting herself, realizing that it got her nowhere and it hurt her friends. She knew that they grieved for her, even though she wasn't dead. They grieved for her life.. her never ending life.  
  
She knew that she'd never be totally alone. She'd still always have her friend's children, their children's children, and each generation after that. No, she would never be completely alone. Even Xander's grandson, Joe, had a little thing for her. He's never pushy with her, his advances were soft and almost friendly. He's like his grandfather, polite until the end.  
  
And though it may seem like it, she didn't stray from relationships. She tried to make them work, fake smiles and sugary sentiments. But eventually she gave up, realizing that it just wasn't worth it. After all that time she couldn't manage to let herself fall in love again. And even if she would let herself get that close to someone she wouldn't be able to grow old with them. He'd just be another person to watch fade away with age.  
  
She thought briefly of Angel, remembering how he had come to her a few months after her realization of her immortality. The surprise on his face when he saw the flawless face of a 21 year old rather than a 31 year old. She saw the despair on his face, him telling that he wouldn't be able to grow old with her. He had been granted his shanshu, which made him human. But he stayed. Three whole years he stayed with her. He loved her with everything that he was, practically worshipping her. But she couldn't find it in herself to love him that deeply. She wasn't the 16 year old that was mesmerized by him and his mystery.  
  
Slowly he gave up on her. He'd realized that he was getting older and there was a life out there that he deserved. A wife, children. He knew that he deserved to be loved.. He craved to be loved with an intensity that Buffy couldn't give him. He left her on a bright and sunny morning. She hadn't heard from him since.  
  
She finished with her nightly ritual and headed straight for her bed. She pushed all her depressing thoughts from her brain as she laid down on the softness of her blankets. Her body needed the rest badly, but she wouldn't let herself slip away into sleep just yet.  
  
She stared at the ceiling, like she did every night, before going to sleep. No one knew of this part of her nightly ritual. And even if they did she'd deny it. She liked to picture his face.. See it just how she remembered it. She found that she could still get an almost perfect picture of him in her mind. His shockingly white hair.. his blue eyes. The murky depths of cobalt that changed with his mood. His face, his hands, his smile.. She missed everything about him and it broke her heart.  
  
His being gone still hurt. when it finally sunk in that he wasn't coming home, that he was truly gone, she locked herself in her room and cried. She'd forgiven him for that night in the bathroom. His desperation had controlled him and he had done something that he regretted. She had seen the regret and sadness in his soulless eyes before he bolted from the room. But his eyes were anything but soulless.  
  
It had been so long ago, she almost wondered if it all had been a dream. Sometimes she wondered if he had been a dream. Everything that he had been was just a figment of her imagination. Just a reoccurring dream. Then she'd look at the picture that Dawn had took of him when he hadn't been looking. A cigarette rested between his middle and fore fingers. A slight quirk of his lips were just the beginning of a smirk.  
  
Sometimes she still found herself wandering through his cemetery to his crypt. Those nights she always ended up spending her time with Clem. She eventually learned to enjoy Clem's company and found herself laughing again. She valued her friendship with Clem and his kindness to her. She wasn't sure if she'd ever find a friend quite like him ever again.  
  
Every once in a while she found herself looking out her bedroom window to the tree where he spent many nights. Where he chain-smoked as we watched and guarded her window. Finding that spot vacant left her feeling hollow and broken.  
  
But the one thing that she would never admit to, even if that meant being subjected to torture, was that she wore Spike's when she slept. She loved the feel of the leather wrapped around her bare body. It still vaguely smelled like him and it almost seemed like he was still there. His own body wrapped around hers. She could still remember the feel of his skin against her own.  
  
Immortality robbed her of her sense of time. Had it really been that long ago? She didn't seem to know anymore.  
  
TBC...  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Annie (mjaw): I finally got around to typing it! I hope you enjoy this story. it'd make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks for your support and I'd read your stories anytime! 3  
  
spikezleatherchick: I'm glad that you liked it, made me feel all fuzzy and stuff.  
  
Ashleigh: I'm also glad that you liked it. hopefully I can have regularish updates. Regularish isn't a word but I think it works in this situation.  
  
wolf116: I'm really glad that you liked the poem. I also thought that it represented that scene very well. It has become one of my favorite poems and I'm glad that I shared it with you and all the other readers. Also glad that you like he story so far.  
  
Mita427: Its good to know that I'm not the only one who loves angst. It's strangely addicting isn't it? 'M happy that you like the story! 


	3. Seeing Red

Disclaimer: Spike's chained to my bed. really, he is. All defenseless and blindfolded.. 'cause, you know, I'd be here, writing this instead of having my wicked way with him... sheesh, you're all so gullible. That's a nice dream though, isn't it?  
  
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.  
  
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else. I'll update as often as possible, school's got me pretty busy. So don't get too mad if it takes a while for updates. And as I said before, I've never been to San Francisco, so if I got it wrong I give you my apologies.  
  
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.  
  
Chapter 3 ~ Seeing Red ~  
  
The music in the club was deafening and it pulsed rhythmically throughout Spike's body. The beat was quick and it vibrated throughout the room. The club was heavy with smoke, alcohol, and sexual energy. He watched the people dance erotically against each other from his location at a nearby table. His long, graceful fingers encircled the shot glass that was positioned in front of him, boredom radiated off of him in waves. The San Francisco night life tended to be wild, invigorating, and irrational. He wouldn't be bored for long.  
  
Spike didn't usually go to clubs, because they reminded him of the Bronze. And the Bronze reminded him of Buffy. But every once in a while the sleazy, rundown bar scene became too repetitive and he needed something new.  
  
Occasionally he found that he eyes would stray to the young blondes on the dance floor. He would unconsciously look for her, no matter how long it had been since the last time he saw her. That's just the way the game's played. He saluted his glass to the fucked up world and took a mouthful of tequila. The burning liquid seared his throat all the way down to his stomach where it began to smolder.  
  
The music stopped briefly, only the chatter of the dancers could be heard before the next track started. People shuffled around the room to different positions on the dance floor. Old friends talked to each other, and new relationships began. That's when he spotted her.  
  
He looked up and saw someone he had forgotten about. 'No, it couldn't be..' His heart jumped in his throat and he felt the boredom leave his body like smoke. The bubbly woman danced lively to the music, her long, red, wavy hair swung from side to side. A bright smile covered her face.  
  
It couldn't be Willow, could it?  
  
Spike counted the years and decades since he last saw her in his brain. The definite realization that she wasn't Willow hurt his heart. A daughter? Granddaughter? The resemblance was striking. He found that he couldn't take his eyes off of her. It was almost like he was coming home. Just the sight of her did that to him. What would it be like to touch her? Talk to her? Fuck her against the wall? Hold her?  
  
She danced without a care in the world. She laughed at life rather than life laughing at her. She wasn't Buffy.. but she was close enough. He felt an ache for this Willow look alike that he hadn't felt in a long time. It didn't really have much to do with the fact that she looked like Willow. It was more the familiarity of her that he started to crave. For a small moment in time he forgot about Buffy. Even for only a night. Maybe that's all he needed for now.. to completely forget her for a night.  
  
The cute redhead blushed when she noticed the intense gaze directed towards her. She quirked her lips in a half smile and turned her burning face from his view. His heart melted al little from seeing the innocence that the girl possessed. Most of the women he went home with, or hoped to go home with, were kinky enough to almost make him blush..almost.  
  
The waitress approached his table, a suggestive smile lingered on her face as her eyes traveled across his body. Spike ordered another shot of tequila, then he centered his attention on his new fascination. The waitress' smile turned to a pout as she sulked back to the bar. The brunette waitress was a sure fuck, Spike wasn't blind, but he wanted a challenge. The shot of tequila appeared in front of him. His hand grabbed the shot glass and brought it to his lips. The familiar burn comforted... his savior from loneliness.  
  
"You just going to stare all night? Or are you going to ask my friend to dance?" Spike looked up to find a tall blond standing in front of his table. Her green eyes questioned his motives and warned him with a slight glare. Impatience got the best of her and she began tapping her foot in a quick staccato.  
  
Spike rose from his chair, looked pointedly at the blond, then strode across the club to the red-head's location. He chuckled slightly at the immaturity of having the girl's friend come ask him for a dance with the girl. It made this girl seem more like Willow than she previously had. As he approached her she turned to look up at him. The trusting smile that she gave him melted and broke his heart all in one moment. He forced himself to close the walls that hid his heart and emotions. He couldn't ever let anyone in again. He didn't want to hurt anymore.  
  
"Would you like to dance luv?" His voice and smile were both smooth, accent rich. He reached out and took her hand into his own, a blush stained her cheeks. He led her to an open spot in the far off corner of the club. There was just enough room for them both to dance comfortably. He pulled her close, hands clasped tightly around her waist. Her hands linked behind his neck, her eyes focused on his. The melody playing was haunting and tragic. 'The story of my life', Spike thought bitterly. A smile remained on his face.  
  
"What's your name luv?" He had leaned forward, his lips touched her ear in a slight caress. Shivers sped up and down his spine when she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.  
  
"Michelle. My name's Michelle. What's yours?" She pulled back and looked him in the eyes once again, smile blazing. He fought the strong urge to introduce himself as William. Something about her brought out the human in him. He briefly thought of Buffy, and the way she would call William when no one was around, but then pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. 'Just for tonight', he thought, 'it won't be about Buffy tonight.'  
  
"'M name's Spike." His sexy smirk and suggestive smile caused Michelle to blush at the implication he made with just his name.  
  
"Well, Spike." She briefly tested the name out on her tongue, "thank you for asking me to dance."  
  
"Pleasure's all mine luv." He felt her body tremble slightly under his fingers. It was nice to know that he could still make a girl nervous. They continued to dance slowly against each other, his fingers flirted with the skin at her waist. Her head rested against his cheek and the smell of lilacs assaulted him. A feeling of lust passed though him and he leaned down and kissed her neck. A gasp caught in her throat as his lips lingered on her skin.  
  
"You remind me of someone I used to know," he whispered in her ear.  
  
"You don't know her anymore?" She asked, continued to rest against him.  
  
"Not anymore. I haven't seen her in a long time." The slower dance ended and led into a sultry song with a quick beat. Spike continued to dance slowly with Michelle, despite the quick rhythm. Without thinking he pressed his lips against hers. He wanted her and thinking only caused problems. Slowly the passion grew before he pulled away.  
  
"Let's get out of here," he said against her lips, slowly leading her towards the door. Her green eyes were glazed and she followed without a protest.  
  
"Where are you going to take me?" She asked as she let him pull her out of the club to his car.  
  
"A small motel nearby." Michelle nodded and entered his car through the door he had opened for her.  
  
The last thing on his mind, as he drove Michelle to the motel, was Buffy. Maybe he could forget for a night. Maybe.  
  
TBC.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
wolf116: I know that the duster probably wouldn't still be around, but I just couldn't stand to see it go. I love that thing. And I hope you enjoyed the Spike filled chapter. It isn't much of a Spuffy story yet but it'll get there. I wouldn't write any other kind of ending. ;)  
  
Amanda Lord: I'm glad that you love the story, and having it compared to Isabelle's '100 Years' is unbelievably flattering. Thank you.  
  
Coquine: Strangely I don't even like these kind of stories all that much, but the idea was calling to me. So I guess that's way I'm trying to make it a little more different and original. I hope that you continue to like it!  
  
spike wuvs buffy: Now that I know that many people are addicted to this story I'll have to make sure to keep on writing and update as often as possible. I'm glad that you're enjoying this fic.  
  
Chase: Don't worry about being too pushy. It'll probably make me write quicker. And I'm glad that you like this story that much, makes me feel all fuzzy.  
  
Darklover: I'm glad that you like it. ;)  
  
Dark Lulu: It is sad now, but remember, I don't believe in unhappy endings.  
  
Feral-beast: I'm glad that you're enjoying it!  
  
Ashleigh: Good to know that you approve of my Buffy-speak. And wouldn't you sleep in Spike's duster if you had it? I would prefer Spike IN the duster, but you take what you can get, right? You like angst too! That makes me happy. ;)  
  
Jessica: Here is the next chapter! Obviously..  
  
A/N: Ok.. *sighs* For the most part each chapter is written out, and all I have to do is type them. I just started college so I'll do my best to update as often as possible. Please be patient with me. *Gives all reviewers Spike hugs* 


	4. Tomorrow is a New Day

Disclaimer:  
  
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.  
  
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else.  
  
I want to apologize for my long hiatuses between updates. I've gotten really busy with school, and I guess school has to come first. And that's sad. Seriously though, I'm going to do my best to get chapters done quicker. I just need to find the time.  
  
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.  
  
Chapter 4 ~ Tomorrow is a New Day ~  
  
Buffy smiled at Willow as she entered the kitchen. She weakly smiled back, sadness still lingered in her eyes. Slowly she shuffled to a nearby chair, grasping the table as she eased herself into it.  
  
"I hate getting old," Willow mumbled. She despised each new ache in her body, the signs of old age. Buffy just nodded solemnly and placed a plate of newly made pancakes in front of the bitter woman.  
  
"Pancakes in funny shapes!" Willow chuckled at the enthusiasm in Buffy's voice. Buffy sat down next to her with her own plate, and the aroma reminded them of happier times. Willow finished pouring the maple syrup and quickly dug in with her fork. Buffy continued smiling that fake smile she had come so used to wearing. But anyone who knew her could still see the melancholy hidden in her murky green eyes.  
  
"He was ready to die, you know? He wanted it to come." Buffy looked up and met Willow's eyes. They shared a pain filled gaze before Buffy broke the connection. She brought a fork-full of pancakes to her mouth.  
  
If only things could be the same.  
  
*~~~*~~~*  
  
~ Desperation. Love. Hope. He needed her. He knew that she loved him. He knew that she knew it too. He skipped the stairs two at a time, then he reached the top.  
  
The bathroom. Her bathroom. From outside the door he could hear running water. He turned the door knob, letting himself in. He wanted in. There was so much pain, hurt.  
  
He tried to prevent her from crawling away. He couldn't let her get away. She's hurt. Tears. He needed her. Taste her. Touch her. Fuck her. Obsession. Love.  
  
Anger on her face. Anguish. Disgust. Dread. Hurt. She hurts. He felt her push him off and across the room. Sorrow. Run away. Far away. A monster can't love. ~  
  
Spike's eyes opened with a snap. The dark room covered him like a blanket and the cheap motel bed was stiff under his back. He looked down at the red hair of his bed partner, her cheek pressed against his chest. 'So much for forgetting about Buffy ,' he thought to himself. He lifted his left hand to his face and rubbed his sleep filled eyes. He knew he'd have to get up soon, which also meant he'd have to leave Michelle. He didn't want a relationship, but he didn't want to hurt her either. At least he still had a little time left before she woke up.  
  
*~~~*~~~*  
  
The piece of paper felt like it was burning Buffy's hands. She felt the implications of this paper wash over her. It crushed her; made her ache.  
  
Buffy Anne Summers 81 years old. Died on February 23rd. She survived by her younger sister and close friends. She will be missed  
  
It was surreal. You weren't supposed to be alive to see your own death, obituary, funeral. That just isn't the way things happen. After breakfast, Willow had presented her with the obituary that she had written a few days earlier. Now it was actually happening. Tomorrow was Buffy's death-day. She laughed bitterly and set the page down on the table.  
  
She knew her supposed death was logical, in a weird and twisted way, but still logical none the less. At least now the government wouldn't be suspicious of her never ending life and, on the plus side, she wouldn't have to pay taxes anymore. Her friend's families would help her pay for anything that she needed. And then, eventually, she'd find her own way of making money without causing too much trouble for herself. Willow had done a good job of helping her plan it all out.  
  
She looked down at the obituary, and her stomach turned and twisted. Her hands shook as she removed the paper from her sight. Before long she'd have to write one for Willow too. Another life lost, another soul finding release. She stood on weak knees and left the room. She couldn't deal with death anymore, or at least not for the rest of that day. But tomorrow is a new day.  
  
*~~~*~~~*  
  
Michelle woke up to find Spike pacing back and forth in the small hotel room. Her face showed surprise, she didn't think that he'd still be there in the morning. She pulled the sheet from around her waist to wrap around her upper body, just below her arms.  
  
"You're going to make yourself dizzy if you continue pacing." He stopped to look at her.  
  
"Is that an old wives' tale that I haven't heard of before?" His scarred eye brow rose, his lips quirked in amusement.  
  
"No," she giggled, "I was just trying to get you to stop because it was making me dizzy." Spike chucked and sat next to her on the bed.  
  
"Fair enough. But would it be all right if I asked you a question?"  
  
"Ask away."  
  
"Was your grandmother's name Willow?" Michelle frowned slightly.  
  
"Why would you ask me a question like that?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"No, I guess it really doesn't. Neither of my grandmother's names were Willow. One was Mattie and the other was Laura."  
  
"What about your mother?"  
  
"You're a very strange person."  
  
"Just humor me."  
  
"My mother's name is Angela. Is that all you wanted to know?" Spike's hear sunk a little.  
  
"Yeah luv, that's all I wanted to know. You better get dressed, your mates are probably worried about you."  
  
A flash of disappointment clouded her face before she pulled down the sheet, revealing her nude body. She stalked around the room, retrieving the clothing that had been shed the night before. She looked over at the bed, and her eyes settled on the enigma of a man that was stretched out on the bed. His naked body looked like a nearly unmarred sculpture. All the scars made him real.  
  
"So, I'll see you around?" She asked hopefully, daring to look into his bottomless ocean blue eys.  
  
"Probably not luv. But I'll never forget what you did for me."  
  
"And what did I do for you that you didn't do for me?"  
  
"You made me feel alive again. I haven't felt that way in a long time. You've made me want to go home again."  
  
"Where is home? Is it where Buffy is?" His face looked shocked and confused. When his mouth opened to talk she explained, "you talk in your sleep. Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for." She gave him a sad smile, turned for the door and left.  
  
He laid on the bed a few moments longer, searching for some semblance of inner peace. He looked out the window to see the glow of the newly rising sun lick the tip of the horizon. His pulled his clothes on back over his body, ready to race the sun home.  
  
He dropped the room key off at the front desk and ran to the cover of his car to avoid the newly risen sun rays. When he got back to his apartment he packed a few things, the things that mattered the most to him. His essential things for existing.  
  
He noticed that the sun had fully risen and he wouldn't be able to make it to his car without burning to a crisp. He sighed and collapsed on his bead and slept the rest of the day away.  
  
Tomorrow everything would change.  
  
*~~~*~~~*  
  
darklover: Hope you liked the chapter. And I don't really like the idea of Spike being with any of Willow's relatives either.  
  
wolf116: I have a coat similar to Spike's too. Though it is actual leather. (I love Value Village) It is way too big for me, but I still love it. I got it for about 12 dollars. And while writing this chapter, I didn't even notice that I had made Michelle's friend look like Buffy. I actually had my friend Fearless in mind when I chose that description for the character. *shrugs*  
  
Ashleigh: *blushes* You're comments make me all happy. ;) I'm glad I'm not the only one who loves angst. Sorry that this chapter took so long to be posted. I got wrapped up in school work. When mid-terms are over I might be able to find more time to write. *crosses fingers*  
  
~~ I appreciate reviews *hint* *hint* That, and they'll get me motivated to procrastinate on more important things and write this story. ;) ~~ 


End file.
